Losing Battle
by mcat
Summary: After the shooting, Danny and Martin's relationship changes. Slash.


October 2005

I knew he'd be here today; I thought I'd be able to handle it. I was wrong. I couldn't even look, acknowledge his presence. I ducked into the elevator as soon as I could. He shouldn't be here. Hell, who am I kidding? _I_ shouldn't be here.

Two Months Earlier

By the time Danny had made it back to the hospital, when the paperwork was done, i's dotted, t's crossed, the bad guys in their places, time sheet filled out, it was almost thirty-six hours after the shooting. The worst thirty-six hours of his life.

He dreaded going to see Martin. Didn't want to see how bad he must look. Didn't want to relive those horrible moments of the shooting. The horrible moments after the shooting, when he was hands deep in Martin's blood.

Danny stopped short of the ICU, collapsing heavily onto one of the waiting room couches, dropping his head into his hands. He didn't bother fighting the tears, he hadn't been successful any other times during the last thirty-six hours.

It was the sound of Martin's name being said that made him look up. A woman was talking to Assistant Director Fitzgerald, Martin's father. Danny realized that it must have been Martin's mother. Taking a closer look, he recognized her face from one of the pictures in Martin's apartment.

Quickly wiping his face, Danny rose and walked toward the couple.

"Mr. and Mrs. Fitzgerald," he greeted them. "I'm-"

"Agent Taylor," Victor finished curtly, nodding his head.

Danny was suddenly speechless; nervous.

"You were with Martin..." Mrs. Fitzgerald began. "Agent Malone told us what happened, how you helped save Martin's life."

"I was there," Danny replied, only agreeing to that fact. Needing to get away from the subject, away from the nightmare, he asked, "How's he doing?"

"He's holding his own," Victor replied.

Danny nodded his head.

"I'm going back in," Martin's mother told her husband. "Thank you," she told Danny, gently patting his arm, and walked back into the ICU.

"I'm heading back to the Bureau," Victor said. "I want to read the reports. Can I give you a ride, Agent Taylor?"

"Uh, no," Danny replied. He didn't want to go back to the office. He wanted to see Martin. Needed to.

"Then I'll see you there, then," Victor told him, his tone telling Danny that he didn't have a choice.

Danny looked toward the ICU, seeing Martin's mother enter one of the cubicles. He let out a sigh. "Yeah," he told Victor.

Danny yawned. He couldn't help it anymore. But Martin's father had to understand. Had to know that he was tired, exhausted, and ready to drop. And the next thing Danny knew, Victor's hand was on his shoulder. Danny looked up and saw the look on the older man's face. He did understand.

"Go home, Taylor. I can finish up here," he said.

Suddenly feeling bold, Danny said, "You could probably use a break, too, sir. Spend some time with your wife and Fitz."

"Fitz?"

Danny looked embarrassed. "Sorry. Martin."

Victor nodded. "Yes, well, I don't know about that, but I do need to get back to Mrs. Fitzgerald. We need to plan her stay with Martin."

"Excuse me?"

"She'll, of course, be staying with Martin, to help him in his recovery."

"Of course."

"Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck."

Danny repeated the crude curse over and over. He couldn't help it. The thought of Martin's parents going to his apartment. Of Martin's mother _living _there with him.

"Fuck."

He'd tried to control his speed, get to Martin's apartment in one piece. There were things in Martin's apartment that Martin's parents didn't need to see. His things. Their things.

Danny shoved the gearshift into park, not caring about any parking meters. He ran up the stairs to the apartment building, already shaking his keys around, finding the one to Martin's apartment.

Once in, he took a quick look around – happy to notice that there was no luggage around, no one sleeping in Martin's bed – Martin's parents hadn't been there yet. Danny went to the kitchen and grabbed a couple of plastic bags and began his next search.

In the bathroom, he quickly grabbed his toothbrush and shaving kit, putting them into one of the plastic bags. Next, he threw some dirty towels into the small hamper and then he emptied the garbage into another plastic bag. In the bedroom, he again emptied a garbage can and this time, tied the bag closed. Opening a few drawers, Danny found the condoms, lube and other telltale items of his and Martin's sex life and deposited them into the bag with his shaving kit. Taking a quick look around, he picked up a few items of his from on top of the dresser, a scribbled note, a set of cufflinks, a picture frame...

He looked around the bedroom again and quickly decided that changing the sheets would be in order, too. Who knew where Mrs. Fitzgerald would sleep while Martin was still in the hospital? He bundled the dirty ones, along with the towels from the hamper in the bathroom, into a garbage bag and threw it toward the front door. After making the bed with fresh linens, he looked around the bedroom again. He opened the closet door and quickly rifled through the suits and other clothes, making sure nothing of his was there. Sometimes there was.

Another quick search of the apartment – from kitchen to bathroom to living room to bedroom – had Danny sure that any trace of their relationship was gone from the apartment. It was safe for Martin's parents to be there. It was safe for him and Martin.

When Danny's foggy thoughts finally registered the noise painfully piercing his skull as that of his cell phone ringing, he turned over in bed, blindly reaching for the device.

"Taylor," he mumbled, knowing that answering whoever was calling was the only way to get the noise to stop.

"_Danny?"_ When Danny didn't reply, the caller repeated herself. _"Danny? Are you there? Are you all right?"_

"Mmm..."

"_Danny, come on, I need you to wake up."_

The urgency in the voice, recognizing who it was, Danny sat up, now wide-awake. "Samantha? What is it? Fitz? Is he okay?" he demanded.

"_Martin's doing fine, Danny,"_ she replied. _"It's you we're worried about."_

"Huh?" Danny ran his hand through his hair and looked around his room, orienting himself some more. "I'm fine," he told her.

"_Danny, it's ten a.m. You're late for work,"_ Samantha told him.

Danny looked at his bedside clock, checking for himself. He'd been asleep for over fifteen hours. "Shit. I'll be there in an hour," he told her and ended the phone connection.

Turning on the shower, he cursed aloud. He'd wanted to get up early, to stop at the hospital and see Martin before going to work. He'd have to wait, now.

Within fifteen minutes, he was showered, shaved, dressed and downing three Tylenol as he headed out his front door.

The next week was spent working on a new case. A fourteen year old girl had run away from home, been picked up by a level three sex offender and was somewhere in Nebraska – at least they hoped so.

Danny, Samantha and Jack had followed the leads in New York City, worked with witnesses from there to Pittsburgh, PA and were now on yet another plane, hoping to head off the pair in Omaha. They'd been in contact with other FBI units and police departments across the country. It seems that there had been sightings of the girl as far as California. Danny wondered again at the old saying that everyone has a double somewhere. This girl, and suspect, had at least four doppelgangers each... so far.

Closing his laptop with a sigh, Danny leaned back against his seat and rubbed his temples. After a few moments, he resignedly took out the bottle of Tylenol that seemed to have a permanent place in his jacket pocket these days. He shook out three and grabbed his water bottle.

"Another headache?" Samantha asked.

"Yeah. Guess I'm not getting enough sleep lately," he replied.

"You gonna be okay?"

"I'm fine." He gave a small shake of his head. "I'll be fine once we find these two and I can go home and sleep in my own bed again."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," she replied. "It's been a rough week."

"Not as bad as Martin's, though," Jack cut in, putting away his cell phone.

"What!" Danny exclaimed. "What happened? Is he okay?"

"He's fine," Jack said in a calming tone. "He started physical therapy this morning."

"I thought you were talking to Van Doren," Samantha said.

"I was. Martin's father stopped by the office today and she asked him how Martin was doing. He actually told her."

Samantha nodded.

Danny, however, downed his Tylenol and closed his eyes. He wanted to be with Martin. He needed to be with Martin.

Damn! How does Martin take it? Doesn't that woman give him a minute to himself? Five minutes. Is just five minutes too much to ask for? You'd think this was his first time in the hospital. Or that he was on death's door still... God, Taylor, what you just thought.

"Agent Taylor?"

"What? Oh, I'm sorry, what did you say? My mind must be wandering."

"She asked if you'd been with the Bureau long," Martin answered.

"Oh, uh, six years," Danny replied.

Martin's mother went on prattling, talking about Victor's early years in the Bureau and how they had moved from town to town... Martin tipped his head slightly, silently apologizing to Danny. Danny nodded in acknowledgment. He'd only gotten to the room ten minutes ago, fifteen before the end of visiting hours. And unfortunately, Martin's nursing staff were all members of the Nurse Ratched Admiration Society – he'd yet to get in after hours, let alone stay a few minutes late.

For five days in a row now, since they'd all gotten back from Omaha – teenage girl safe, sex offender behind bars – Danny had attempted to visit Martin, attempted to have just a few minutes alone with his lover, and failed.

And Martin hadn't helped at all, either. He, at least, could have asked his mother to leave for a few minutes. Asked her to get him a book or magazine or something... Danny tried not to feel anger toward Martin. He was still a little off – between the pain and the pain meds he was on... Again, Martin's mother's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"There's the tones," she said, pointing to the ceiling. "Time's up for today." She stood and leaned over Martin, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

Danny wanted to do the same. He waited, hoping she might leave first.

"After you, Agent Taylor," she said, waving her hand toward the door.

Danny was starting to wonder if she knew something. If she was deliberately keeping him from being alone with Martin. He waved goodbye.


End file.
